"But you kept telling me you used to be happy."
"That's because I thought I was. I thought we were because I didn't know anything different. Until you came along and showed me what happiness really feels like. Before that, I had no clue what was missing-we'd been together since high school. I had no other relationship to compare it to. It's more than simply feeling okay with something or someone. That's complacency, and that's something I never want to live with again. I can't do it. I can't live that way."
Her hand moved from my chest to my cheek, and just that simple touch was enough to soothe my soul. "It's okay. I get it. I didn't mean to upset you." She traced the lines on my face before pulling her attention back to my eyes. "I'd convinced myself we'd never be together. I refused to get my hopes up anytime you talked about her or the issues you two had, and honestly, wishing things were different for you made me feel like a really horrible person. Like I would somehow be glad if your relationship failed. So I tried really hard to support you being with her. What I didn't lie about was that I believe you deserve everything good. I meant that, and I still do."
"You're good." I grabbed her wrist and kissed her palm. "So I guess that means I deserve you. You meant that, so you need to start believing it. Stop questioning this. Stop waiting for it to fall apart … because it never will. If I'm only ever one thing … I'm devoted."
"What if this high we're on goes away, and you find you're not as content as you think you are? What if I don't make you as happy as you think I will? Then what? Because from what I know of you, you won't leave. You'll stick it out and be miserable … and I can't do that, Dane. I can't make you stay where you don't want to be."
My smile confused her, making her brow furrow, but I ignored it. "It's not like Gabi didn't know how I felt. It's not like she was under this impression that everything was sunshine and rainbows. It wasn't a secret, Eden. But she wouldn't let me go. I don't anticipate you being anything other than the woman in front of me right now, but in the event something happens or something changes … I know you won't tie me down. You won't keep me where I don't want to be. That's the difference."
"You never know." Her lips thinned as she tried to fight off a smirk. "I could be crazy. I could chain you up in my basement and feed you cat food until you weighed three hundred pounds, and then sell you on the black market."
I rolled on top of her, pushing her onto her back. With my head in the crook of her neck, I blew hot air against her skin, causing her to squirm and giggle. Giving her a reprieve, I watched the light dance in her eyes. "Good luck finding a basement in Florida. And cat food? You couldn't come up with anything else?"
She shrugged after catching her breath. "It was the first thing that came to mind. I never claimed to be quick-witted."
After teasing and more tickling, I eventually settled lower on her body, my head resting against her stomach like a pillow. My fingers traced the lines of the tattoo on her side and I thought about the first time I saw it, when I first felt the need to run my fingers along the twisted tree trunk, touch the black-and-grey shading, and follow it up to the living branches at the top.
"What does this mean?" I asked without taking my eyes off the ink.
"My tattoo?"
I nodded and shifted my head so I could see her.
"It's an old, ancient tree, Dane. Not much to explain about it."
"But it's not all old and ancient. There's vibrant life still in it. So tell me, what does it mean?"
She blinked and tried to look away, but before I could call her attention back, her eyes found mine again. They were soft, almost sad as she explained, "People leave. They stay around until they get what they want and then they're gone. And sometimes, they don't even stick around at all. They just push you off on someone else, like you're nothing but a burden they don't care to deal with."
I hadn't ever heard Eden talk like that before. I didn't like it. She was too strong of a person to sound so broken. I almost said something, but stopped when she continued talking.
"But I've learned something each time. The trunk is old, its roots deep and thick, scarred and weathered, dead looking, much like the relationships from my past. They took their toll on me-they left their scars and affected how my roots took hold, yet my tree continued to grow. But, just like life, all you have to do is look up to see the new beginning, the fresh blooms. Look back and all you see is the weathered, twisted past, but to find the beauty, you have to see it as a whole. My birth mother gave me away, and I struggled with that a lot when I was younger because I felt abandoned. But now, I understand things aren't always black and white. It's not one way or another. Sometimes, there are reasons for why things happen and why people leave. Their time serves a purpose, and whether they stay or go, it's always for the better. It took me a while to see that, especially after my brother died. But I finally accepted that he was struggling here on Earth, and now he's in a place where he doesn't have to feel that way anymore."
Her words shocked me to my core, left me utterly speechless. She was only twenty-five and had already learned how to find the positives from things that seem so negative.
"You think I look away out of insecurity. I've told you it's because I'm shy. But maybe it's neither. Maybe it's nothing more than me protecting myself. If I let you see all of me-everything there is inside-and you leave, it'll sting. I know I'll get over it. I know it won't end me, but that doesn't mean it won't cause irrevocable damage. I don't want to take that chance because I refuse to give people that much power over me. I don't care to give anyone the satisfaction of wounding me. If I don't allow anyone in, then I shield myself from suffering. But if I give you that part of me, you could damage my heart beyond repair."
"And you could do the same to me," I pointed out. I understood her need for self-preservation because a part of me felt the same way. I couldn't explain it. I'd never really been concerned about being hurt before. Maybe that was because I never worried about Gabi breaking my heart. Even after what she did, my heart wasn't beyond repair. I was angry, but not destroyed. There was something about Eden that made it real to me-that I could experience the devastation of a failed relationship.
"Has anyone ever left you? Like just walked out of your life? Gotten what they wanted and left?" she asked with a hint of concern in her voice.
"No. I can't say I've ever experienced that. But I do have people in my life who should've walked away. They are still in my life, but they don't truly know me. They've never cared to delve deeper in my life beyond the surface. To them, I'm merely a distant relative instead of their child."
She moved her hands to my face and began to stroke my scruff with her palms. Her eyes were full of emotion I couldn't put my finger on. Sympathy maybe. Or possibly fear. It was hard to tell. "Do you ever want a family?"
"Of course I do. Why?"
She shrugged, but for once, never lost eye contact with me. "You were with Gabi for twelve years and you never got married. It took you eleven years to propose. And aside from the baby you lost … you've never had children. So I guess I was wondering if that was by choice or just the way it happened."
I didn't want to spend my weekend discussing Gabi, but her question was reasonable. I could see why she would ask. "Honestly, it's not that I didn't want to get married or have kids, but I guess I never really felt like it was the right time before. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, I knew I hadn't met the right person to share those things with."
She pulled on the sides of my face until our lips met. We were both as naked as the day we were born and feeling her body against mine made me hard again. I didn't think I'd ever get enough of Eden, but I certainly didn't want her to think that's all I was after. So I kissed her for a minute before letting go and falling to the side. I wrapped my arm around her waist and tugged her into me, tucking her back against my chest.
Feeling at peace with her in my arms, I spoke without thinking of the words before they were out. "We should get a place together. I'll sell my condo, you can break your lease, and we'll find our own place."
Her body stiffened and I was pretty sure she'd quit breathing. "That's a horrible idea, Dane."
I couldn't disagree with her … but I didn't think the idea was horrible. "I just hate the thought of not having you next to me when I'm in bed. This is too comfortable to give up."
"There's this thing couples do called staying over at each other's places. We don't have to move in together to share a bed at night."